


The Polar Opposite of Cold Feet

by courtingstars (FallingSilver)



Series: KagaKuro Week 2016 [5]
Category: Kuroko no Basuke | Kuroko's Basketball
Genre: All The Rainbow Love, Engagement, Friendship/Love, Look At These Happy Dorks, M/M, Romantic Fluff, The Fluff Is Out Of Control, Wedding Fluff, Wedding Rings, Weddings, so much love, someone help me
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-07
Updated: 2016-11-07
Packaged: 2018-08-29 15:16:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,088
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8494915
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FallingSilver/pseuds/courtingstars
Summary: Kagami isn’t scared, and neither is Kuroko. They’ve wanted to belong to each other for so long. So when they finally get ready to walk down the aisle, with all their friends at their side, the whole thing just feels more or less like fate.





	

**Author's Note:**

> This late fic was for KagaKuro Week Day 9: Fear. It got completely out of control, and now features basically all my future-verse KagaKuro wedding headcanons. (Well, a lot of them. I will be writing the rest into an upcoming fic called The Last Miracle, the prologue of which I plan to post very soon.) Enjoy!

“Were you scared?” Kuroko asks, adjusting the ring on his hand so it catches the falling light. A band of sleek black metal runs through the white gold. He wonders if he’ll ever be able to stop staring at it.

He glances at its match, the ring fitted to Kagami’s large finger. Identical to his. Except for the gleaming stripe of yellow gold that runs through the middle.

Shadow and light. Their metaphor. The way they began, years ago. Now well on its way to being permanent.

“What, that you’d throw the ring in my face?” Kagami laughs.

He lets go of Kuroko’s other hand, and slips his arm around Kuroko’s shoulder. Pulling him close, in the easy, effortless way of a person who is long accustomed to fitting their bodies together.

“You have been living with me for two years,” he adds with a grin. “Been my boyfriend for six. Figured you would’ve pulled a vanishing act by now, if you didn’t want to get stuck with me.”

Kuroko leans into Kagami, and laughs without thinking. Reflecting all the light and warmth resonating in his fiancé’s face. Because Kagami is glowing, and that’s always true as far as Kuroko is concerned but it’s especially true right now, as the dipping sun bathes the Tokyo streets in reddening gold.

“I didn’t play very hard to get, did I?” Kuroko says, trying to sigh like he regrets this. Instead it only sounds blissful. It’s no wonder, he thinks, that Kagami didn’t really doubt the outcome.

They can’t stop looking at each other. It doesn’t make sense, when they’ve been together this long. Long enough to know each other’s worst habits, and the things they don’t agree on, and all the small, boring things that make each other people.

They should be bored of looking. Not captivated. Instead it feels like there is no one else in the world, nowhere they could be looking, than at each other.

That new word keeps ringing over and over inside Kuroko’s head. The word he had no idea would seem so powerful, when he already knew how much they mattered to each other and they had no desire to be apart…

_“Fiancé.”_

(Hiding in the echoes of this brilliant new word, like a shadow, is the promise of another word. Maybe even more powerful than the first. But Kuroko isn’t ready to fully contemplate that second word just yet.)

“I was nervous,” Kagami admits. His voice should sound gruff, like it always does when he’s embarrassed. But there’s too much warmth in it right now. “Not that you’d tell me to take a hike or whatever. I just didn’t want to screw it up for you.”

“For me?” Kuroko murmurs. He asks, but he already senses what Kagami means. Because by now Kagami’s feelings, and the way he thinks, are like the lines on his own palm. Lines he has traced too many times not to have more or less memorized.

“You know…” Kagami hesitates, and Kuroko thinks, _‘Yes, I do.’_ “I didn’t want to embarrass you, or… Or say something wrong. Make it a bad memory somehow.”

Kuroko nuzzles his brow against Kagami’s chest. His smile widens, and he realizes that he’s been smiling so much that his cheeks hurt.

“Is that why you started talking about laundry in front of all our old teammates?” he can’t resist saying. He feels Kagami flinch.

“I’m sorry!” A groan rumbles deep in Kagami’s throat. “I just… god. That was dumb.” He exhales, hard. “I couldn’t stop thinking today about how you put up with me. And that I wish I was better, because you deserve somebody who’s perfect. I was like ninety-nine percent sure you wouldn’t say no, but… I know you get fed up with my dumb ass sometimes. It wouldn’t be _that_ weird if you wanted to.”

Kuroko cranes his neck, as he gazes up at Kagami.

So many thoughts crowd into his mind, so many things he could say. Words that ache with enough feeling, and enough truth, that he still doesn’t know if he can actually speak them aloud.

_You **are** perfect. You’re exactly what I want. You’re impossible and miraculous and I don’t understand how you exist._

_Sometimes I still honestly believe I dreamed you up._

“I don’t want somebody perfect,” he says instead. His voice is soft, but ardent. Hopelessly sincere. In that way he can never help being, when it comes to this unlikely person named Kagami Taiga.

“I love your flaws,” he adds. Trying to explain, as best he can. “And you love mine. You know all my worst faults, and you still love me. That’s the best feeling in the world.”

He reaches down, and gently squeezes Kagami’s hand.

Kagami softens, and beams at him. Shining with that half-bashful, half-confident smile. The one that still has the power to send a burst of warmth pooling through Kuroko’s chest, and down low in his stomach, trickling and twinkling until he feels it in his toes.

Kagami is so handsome, Kuroko can’t help thinking yet again. Even more than when they met. He has strong, striking features. He’s so tall, and powerfully built… It’s no wonder he’s already a rising star in the NBA, and that people look at him in amazement, wherever they go.

“Yeah,” Kagami says, and he squeezes Kuroko’s hand in return. “You’re pretty damn close to perfect, though. In my book.”

Now Kuroko suspects he is beaming too, with all the light Kagami has lent him over the years. “Well, you happen to be in mine.”

He rests his head against Kagami’s shoulder, as they continue to walk hand in hand. The street is lined with cherry trees in full bloom. The delicate blossoms look even pinker, in the blushing light of sunset.

They stop at the street corner. They’re far from the park now. The one where Kagami proposed, while they visited with their Seirin teammates for their yearly reunion under the cherry trees.

But the neighborhood around them is still very familiar. All the streets they used to walk on their way to school and practice and basketball games. Kuroko and Kagami live in California now, and have for years. But the memories are still strangely vivid.

It isn’t the same corner, but it looks similar enough that it might as well be the one where Kuroko gave Kagami a proposal of his own. One about a shadow, and a light.

“And you’re not _that_ bad about the laundry,” Kuroko adds suddenly, with a chuckle. “The only problem is you were too good before. But you’re so busy now. The least I can do is help. I want to, even if I do complain now and then.”

He lifts his hand, and touches it to Kagami’s face. Kagami is looking at him, in that way Kuroko never quite believes.

Like he’s the miracle, somehow.

“If the worst thing I have to do is pick up your socks sometimes,” Kuroko adds, with a hushed laugh, “Then I am going to be a very happy man.”

He rises on his feet, and draws Kagami into a kiss. Their lips fit together, melding into one another with sweetly familiar pressure. They both let out a breath, warm and sighing. Then Kuroko kisses Kagami again, deepening it long enough that he feels a bit giddy as he pulls away.

Kagami just stares down at him. Like he’s savoring Kuroko’s words, and the future they promise. Kuroko starts to feel a little flushed, though he isn’t sure why. He isn’t embarrassed, neither by his words or kissing his fiancé on a Tokyo street.

It’s something else. Something he doesn’t have the words to express yet.

The traffic light changes, and they start to walk again.

“Are you nervous about tonight as well?” Kuroko says.

“What? You mean dinner with the rainbow gang?” Kagami snorts, and rolls his eyes. “Terrified. But not because of this.”

He adjusts the ring on his finger. Smiling, like he can’t really help it.

Kuroko shakes his head. “I still can’t believe you told them already.”

Kagami looks sheepish. That was one of the odder revelations during the course of the proposal. Kuroko can’t help thinking he should have been suspicious earlier, given the timing of everything.

“Sorry. But there’s no way in hell I was going to spring that on them. I’ve known them long enough to know I never have a clue how they’ll react.” Kagami shrugs. “Anyway, it wasn’t so bad. Having their help.”

Kuroko nods a little. He was surprised when Kagami mentioned he had some assistance in selecting their rings. He makes a mental note to thank Momoi in particular, when he sees her tonight.

“Yes,” he says, in a thoughtful sort of way. “I am concerned about that.”

Kagami blinks. “Why?”

“Didn’t you consider they might want to be involved?” Kuroko says, very calmly. “In planning the wedding. You’ve set a very dangerous precedent.”

Kagami stops walking again.

“Shit,” he says. “Now I _am_ terrified.”

Kuroko gives him a contented smile.

“Serves you right,” he says, happily.

He slides his fingers back in between Kagami’s bigger ones, twining them together. The metal of Kagami’s ring is sweetly cool against his skin. As cool as Kagami’s hand is warm. It already feels exactly right.

Kuroko has a feeling they won’t get married quickly. They’ll want to take their time, so the ceremony can be everything they both want. He is more than content with that. To enjoy this time in between, when they’re already promised to each other. Anticipating when that promise will finally be permanent.

For now, Kuroko can’t imagine what it will feel like. To be planning a wedding, and then preparing to say his vows. To truly be ready for it. A voice seems to whisper inside him, _“You really have no idea.”_

He never has, after all. Throughout every stage of their relationship, he never had any idea just how happy he would be with Kagami. It’s almost a little frightening to contemplate, in a wonderful way.

The truth is, he never would have thought to dream up something as impossible and amazing as marrying Kagami Taiga.

* * *

“Aren’t you scared that all these people might actually come?” Kuroko gazes at the invitations on the couch around him. Envelopes are piled on the nearby end tables, and perching on the armrests.

Kagami can’t help but chuckle. Right now his fiancé looks like he’s about to drown in a sea of foil-stamped paper.

He has to admit the invitation situation is kind of out of control, though. He eyes the binder of addresses they still have to get through. With a sigh, he leans back in his chair and rubs his face with the back of his hands.

As it turns out, planning a wedding is pretty tiring. Particularly a wedding of this scale. Not to mention when the planning is taking place on two separate continents.

But Kagami has to admit, it’s actually been a relief having all their friends’ help. From Kise with his eye for things that Kagami doesn’t comprehend at all—colors and clothes, mostly—to Akashi and his apparently endless list of event contacts, the whole thing has been a lot easier than it should be. And he’s pretty sure it’s going to turn out way better, too.

(Back when he first met them, Kagami never thought the day would come when he would be trusting the Generation of Miracles with something as important as his _wedding_ , but here they are.)

Kuroko seemed surprised, when Kagami said he wanted a big, fancy ceremony. He also seemed more than open to the idea, once Kagami explained that a major reason was that he wanted to have all their friends there. (As many as possible, anyway.)

“Nah, I want them to be there,” Kagami says, in reply to Kuroko’s question.

“You aren’t worried about the expense at all?” Kuroko says, pursing his lips. In that adorable way he has when he’s being _responsible_.

… Which mostly makes Kagami just want to kiss him, instead of paying attention to whatever practical thing he’s suggesting.

“The thing is, we can definitely afford it,” he says. “I mean, I don’t know if you’ve heard. But I do have access to the bank account of this guy who’s in the NBA right now.” He grins.

Kuroko shakes his head a little. “Yes, I hear he’s been playing well lately.”

“He’s doing okay,” Kagami admits. “Anyway, I want our wedding to be special. Might as well, right? The two of us sure don’t spend much the rest of the time.”

“That’s true. My friends seem to think it’s humorous that we’re still living in this apartment,” Kuroko says, a smile ghosting across his face. “Kise-kun keeps asking me why you haven’t bought me a mansion yet.”

“Figures.” Kagami snorts. “That dude can’t hang onto money to save his life.”

“Besides which, I think he must have us confused with other people,” Kuroko adds. “I know we lead a very glamorous lifestyle, but I’m not sure it requires a mansion.”

They look at each other and laugh.

“What, really? You don’t think we need a giant house to lounge around and watch stupid TV?”

The television continues to blare in the background, with the strident sounds of some random reality program, while they return to writing invitations. And Kagami has to admit that even though his hand is cramping and his eyes are getting tired, he couldn’t be happier sitting here, lounging in sweatpants and an old t-shirt beside the love of his life, inviting a huge bunch of friends to watch them get married.

“I do wonder how many of them will reply,” Kuroko murmurs after a few minutes, looking over the piles again. “Hawaii is a long way to go for a wedding. Whether you live in America or Japan.”

“Yeah,” Kagami says. “I mean, that was the idea. Halfway point and all. But you’re right, it’s pretty far.”

Kagami has to admit, he’s worried before that not as many people will show up as he hopes. But he didn’t want to choose either Japan or America, and alienate the rest of the people they wanted to invite—and anyway, Oahu was a great choice for so many more reasons. So if it doesn’t work out, he’ll have to be content with a smaller turnout. Which definitely isn’t the end of the world.

He has a good feeling about this, though. He knows they both have a lot of friends. Way more than he would have expected, back when he was a kid struggling to get along with anyone.

(Aomine even said to him once, “You’re missing the whole point of having a wedding in Hawaii, dumbass. It’s so people won’t come and you don’t have to deal with all their bullshit.” At which point Kagami threw a pillow at Aomine’s face and pointed out that he deals with _his_ bullshit, so obviously anything after that is going to be a walk in the damn park. Aomine’s been acting kind of weird lately, coming to their apartment when he’s in town for his basketball games, when he always turned down their invitations before. Kagami doesn’t know what that’s about. Almost like he was reluctant to come until now, for some reason.)

“I never thought I would have this many people at my wedding,” Kuroko says suddenly, almost as though he heard Kagami’s earlier train of thought. “I didn’t even realize we knew so many. It’s not as though we get out much.”

“Guess things add up,” Kagami says with a shrug. “I mean there’s all our old friends, and you’ve got your university ones. And I invited the guys from the team, and a few Aomine knows. Plus our all friends are way too connected, if you ask me. I’m pretty sure everyone involved with pro ball in Japan is getting an invitation, for one thing.”

“That’s true.” Kuroko smiles. “I’m a little concerned that this is going to be a celebrity wedding at this rate. I’m not terribly photogenic.”

“I think what you mean is _you don’t show up in pictures_ ,” Kagami says, and Kuroko’s eyes sparkle because yes, that is exactly what he means.

And Kagami knows he should just go back to doing the invitations, because there are more than enough left. But as he looks at his fiancé and that ridiculously cute smile on his face, he really can’t resist the sudden temptation...

So he pounces. Invitations slide off the couch in droves while he presses Kuroko against the cushions and starts kissing him.

Kuroko breaks away from the kiss long enough to say, “I hope you realize that if you keep doing this, we are never going to finish.”

He nods to all the paper around them. Foil letters twinkling in the lamplight of their tiny living room.

“Sorry.” Kagami grins, in a way that makes it very clear he isn’t. “Watching you handle envelopes just gets me hot.”

Kuroko rolls his eyes. “Then it’s finally official. Everything does.”

Kagami growls playfully and tackles him again, and then they’re kissing and roughhousing and somehow they end up on the floor.

They start kissing after that, hard and fast. Tugging off each other’s t-shirts and skimming lips all over bare skin. And somehow there is nowhere Kagami would rather be kissing Kuroko, than on a hardwood floor having to kick the occasional wedding invitation out of their way.

“I really don’t know why you aren’t more concerned about this whole arrangement,” Kuroko murmurs after a few minutes, a little breathless. His hair is in that disheveled, irresistible state that makes him look both adorable and ravished. “You’re going to have to be horribly sentimental, in front of all those people.”

“I can’t wait,” Kagami says, and he really does mean it.

Kuroko shakes his head, even as they kiss again. “And what if you cry?”

“Nah.” Kagami shrugs it off. Then gives Kuroko a smug look. “Obviously you will though.”

“Never,” Kuroko says, sounding amused by something. “You do know they’re already taking bets on it?”

Kagami frowns. “Who?”

“Our wedding party,” Kuroko says, brows raised. Then he clarifies, “On both sides. Mine and yours.”

“Heh. Don’t you mean yours and ours?” Kagami nuzzles his face against Kuroko’s neck. “Let them bet all they want.”

He nuzzles closer, and starts tucking kisses along the soft skin beneath his fiancé’s jawline. Until he can feel his pulse start to flutter and hum.

“And I don’t care what happens,” he murmurs, voice low and husky in Kuroko’s ear. “I want everyone to see. I’m not scared. I want to tell the whole damn world how much I love you.”

Kuroko actually shivers, to his delight. Holds Kagami tighter against him. Kagami can feel the ring on his fiancé’s hand, pressing lightly and coolly against his back.

“Is it strange that we’re looking forward to it?” Kuroko says in his softest voice. One Kagami has trained himself to hear. “We’ve been together for so long. It seems like promising to be together should just feel ordinary.”

They lay there for a minute, motionless. Both thinking about this. Because Kuroko’s right, in a way, and Kagami doesn’t know how exactly to explain why the idea of a wedding still feels exciting and important.

But also…

“Even if it turns out that way, I’m cool with having a boring wedding,” Kagami says. Looking down at his own ring, half-hidden behind Kuroko’s head. “As long as it’s with you.”

Kuroko gazes up at him. With the lamplight shining in those big blue eyes Kagami can never get enough of.

“You are hopeless,” Kuroko sighs.

“For you, you mean?” Kagami just laughs. “Yeah, pretty much.”

They go back to kissing, followed by a lot more than that, as the waistbands of their sweatpants start to slide down lower and lower. And Kagami can’t wait, for the day of their wedding to just _get here already_. He wants to make this handsome and ridiculously adorable shadow his.

So no, he’s not worried about getting married. Honestly, Kagami’s been dreaming about what it would be like since he was a kid. He wants everything to be as great as he can possibly make it, for him and Kuroko and all their friends. To prove to everyone just how much he loves this guy.

Why in the hell would he ever be scared of that?

* * *

“Kagami, why in the world are you so scared?” Riko sighs, as she smoothes the crimson folds of her dress. “At this rate we’ll have to get the hotel to call an ambulance.”

“I’m not fucking scared,” Kagami growls, while white-knuckling the back of a chair. The crowded waiting room around him bustles with nearly a dozen eager voices, and the occasional bark.

“Is it Nigou? We can take him outside,” Kawahara says, in his most helpful voice, as he tries to untangle the leash he’s holding from the chair’s legs. Izuki eagerly chimes in. “Would you say you’re having a _ruff time_? That the dog is scaring you something _pawful_? That—”

“Izuki,” Hyuuga rumbles. He doesn’t even finish. The “shut up” is self-evident in every angle of his scowling features. Somehow the expression even manages to make the tailored lines of his black tuxedo look threatening.

“It’s not the dog!” Kagami all but shouts. “I live with the damn dog. And I’m fine.”

Which nobody in the room believes—but on the other hand, they didn’t expect Kagami to be calm and collected fifteen minutes before his wedding ceremony.

Everyone is busy, in any case. Fixing hair, straightening ties. Hunting for Koga’s missing pocket square. Arranging the pillow on Nigou for the thousandth time. Making sure the rings aren’t somehow lost again.

Not to mention the steady stream of calls Furihata keeps receiving through his state-of-the-art headset, while he makes an obvious effort to keep his voice down.

“I know, I just checked and it’s on the way. It should be there in fifteen minutes. I’m so sorry, thank you so much. … What do you mean, there aren’t enough? Did you get the package from the concierge yet? There should be a lot more in the box. … Okay. Just do the best you can with it. I’m sure it’s fine.”

He looks at Kagami apologetically, as he ends yet another call.

“Sorry. A few of the people we hired are the panicky type,” he says, with a smile that borders on sheepish. “But it’s going great. Really! I promise. Everything’s going to be fine.”

“Uh-huh,” Kagami manages. Staring blankly at the wall.

Furihata pats him on the arm. Mitobe hovers nearby, making his most worried face.

“You’re not getting cold feet, are you, Kagami?” Kiyoshi says, in his friendly way. (Ignoring Riko telling him yet again to put on his tuxedo jacket.)

“Huh?” Kagami gives him a decidedly unfocused look.

“Cold feet? You know, having second thoughts?” Kiyoshi smiles, and in the background Hyuuga mutters, “Everyone knows what it means, idiot, and if he was having second thoughts _now_ I’d kill him.”

“It’s not that,” Kagami blurts out. “I could never have second thoughts, that’d be stupid.”

Some of his former teammates exchange puzzled looks. Kiyoshi just gives Kagami a warm laugh, and squeezes his shoulder, in a distinctly paternal manner.

“Then you’re going to be fine,” he says.

“I know that!” Kagami snaps, but almost everyone in the room looks at him as if to say, _“That’s great, but we don’t, and to be honest you still look like you might have a heart attack.”_

They give him some space, using the good instincts that come with being longtime friends. Furihata makes another call. After a few minutes, he sidles up to Kagami again, and helps him straighten his crimson red vest.

“So, what are you most nervous about?” he asks, and they both know it’s because Furihata is the last person on earth who can’t relate to being nervous. “Is there anything you want me to check on?”

“No, it’s okay.” Kagami heaves a shaky breath. “I know it’s under control. I just…”

He flexes his hands, and balls them up into fists.

“I don’t know,” he stammers. “I really want it to be perfect. I know we’ve been together for years, but I’ve wanted this forever and… yeah.”

He’s starting to look oddly pale, beneath his tanned skin.

“But now I’m starting to think it will be,” he says. “Perfect, I mean. And that’s fucking terrifying. Somehow. Dammit. I don’t know!”

He collapses, draping over the back of the longsuffering chair. Most of his teammates have given up on trying to follow the logic of this bizarre outburst.

“I don’t know if I can do this,” he groans between his arms.

Riko rolls her eyes, like she can’t help it anymore. “He just got an NBA championship, and what breaks him is having to stand beside an altar for twenty minutes.”

Furihata chuckles, and rubs Kagami’s broad back. Takes the opportunity to remove a few of Nigou’s hairs, that somehow ended up on the groom’s dark jacket.

“It’s okay,” he says. “You’re not really scared. You’re excited. It just feels like too much, and it’s hard to process. Right? Totally normal. But you’ve got this.”

He says this in his most encouraging voice. (A voice that, incidentally, managed to lead Seirin for one year as captain.)

Kagami raises his head. Gapes at Furihata, like these simple words are some sort of revelation. His hair is sticking out in several directions, and Furihata scrambles to fix it.

“Yeah,” Kagami manages, between tight breaths. “Yeah. You’re right.”

Furihata nods. “Just breathe. Nice and slow.” He demonstrates.

“Okay. Yeah. Breathe, right.”

Kagami mimics Furihata. Still sitting halfway on the chair, like he can’t actually handle standing right now. And everyone else resists the urge to question how someone can be so obviously, hopelessly in love and yet barely aware of his emotions in general.

At this moment, the door opens, and a newcomer steps into the waiting room. Like Kagami, he is the sort of person who tends to draw second glances. In his case, this is largely due to his striking, undeniably beautiful features. His fashionable undercut swoops down over one eye, giving him a faintly mysterious air.

Like all the other young men in the room, he is wearing a black tuxedo. With one notable difference. Instead of being accented in deep red, the ensemble he wears includes a vest in a certain shade of purple. He looks, for all the world, like some impossible combination of a spy in a suit and a rockstar.

Of course, since this person happens to be Himuro Tatsuya and also Kagami’s best man, everyone in the room is used to that.

“Everything’s ready,” he says, in his smooth voice. “The weather looks good. There’s a big crowd out there.”

He walks straight up to Kagami.

“Hey, bro,” he says, switching to English for a moment. “You look like a wreck.”

Kagami glares at him, muttering something back in English that sounds suspiciously close to, “Fuck you, dude.” But the color is finally starting to come back into his face.

Himuro gives him a sly, easy smile, and punches him in the shoulder. “All right, get up. Time to go get you properly shackled.”

“Yeah, finally!” Koga chirps, having found his pocket square at the last minute. Everyone else is doing a quick check, glancing in the mirror and scanning the chairs. “You guys took _forever_. I mean seriously, just get hitched already, if you’re going to act like newlyweds the whole time anyway.”

The rest of them murmur in agreement. (Not that any of them believe this wedding is going to change the newlywed behavior anytime soon.)

Now everyone is lining up, while Kawahara and Fukuda corral Nigou between them. The dog is wagging his tail so hard his whole body shakes. As though he can feel all the excitement in the air, and can’t resist adding his own elation to it.

Hyuuga stands at the front of the line. He cracks his neck in a familiar way. Just as if they’re about to enter a basketball court for another high-stakes game. As they so often did together, years ago.

In a sense, the stakes of what they’re about to do are higher than ever. Fortunately, the outcome of this event has long been decided.

“All right, Seirin,” he declares, in his most captain-like voice. Catching all their attention. “Time to go get our sixth man back.”

They all decidedly smirk at this.

“For real,” Koga exclaims. “I swear, those guys are always stealing him.”

He throws his hands in the air, emphasizing “those guys” in a way they all have before. With a certain knowing weight. Like it’s a massive inside joke, that everyone they know is in on. (Which is more or less accurate.)

“Well, they’d throw a fit if we didn’t let them sometimes,” Fukuda says, and they all laugh at the truth of this.

“Can you even imagine that waiting room right now?” Tsuchida adds, with a shake of his head. “Because I can’t.”

Various people snort and mutter in agreement, “Me neither,” and “Who knows.” They head out the door together, with Kagami and Himuro trailing behind. Himuro shoots him a knowing look as they walk along.

“You are going to survive this, right?” he says, and Kagami manages a nod. “Good. Because I’ll resuscitate you myself if I have to.”

Kagami gives Himuro a wordless shove, and he chuckles.

Himuro gives his honorary brother a final once-over. But in spite of Kagami’s earlier panic in the waiting room, he somehow looks perfect. His suit is wrinkle free, and fits his athletic body exactly. His hair is miraculously back in place.

And of course, he is every bit the light he has always been. Now shining even brighter than usual, with all the emotions that are so easy to read on his face. Himuro knows he won’t be the only one reading them today—that in fact, a whole crowd of people will be doing it.

And as much as Himuro has always told Taiga that it’s better to manage a hot heart with a cool head, he isn’t going to say that to him today.

The former members of Seirin’s basketball team all pause, at a corner of the hotel. Just out of sight of the open-air pavilion that stands waiting for them. In that brief moment, before their final walk to the head of the aisle, they all look to Kagami.

“Well. Here we are,” Riko says, hands on her hips. She looks to Kagami, with a familiar smile. “So, ace. Are you ready for this? Because you’re up.”

And she might as well be standing on a certain rooftop, the way she gestures toward the pavilion around the corner. Inviting him to declare his intentions to the world.

Which, as it so happens, is exactly what Kagami is about to do.

The former members of Seirin all smile, already knowing full well what Kagami will say. They’re more than used to putting their faith in him, after all, and he’s never let them down.

Kagami takes a deep breath. Thinks about what he’s about to do. About Kuroko, who he hasn’t seen in almost a day now, and how before this hour is over they’re going to belong to each other, in every way they can. Forever.

“Yeah,” he says, and he takes a step forward. “I’m ready.”

And he means it. Because sure, Kagami may be afraid occasionally of acting like an idiot, or of everything turning out so perfect and so right he can’t stand it, or that loving Kuroko this much is literally going to make his heart give out someday.

No matter what, though, he’s never _really_ afraid. Because the idea of being bound to his shadow, Kuroko Tetsuya, for better or worse, for richer or poorer, in sickness and in health until death do them part…

That is something that has never once frightened him.

* * *

“You really aren’t nervous?” Momoi murmurs, smiling at Kuroko’s reflection in the mirror.

Just like the other waiting room, this room is somewhat small, and beautifully decorated. The pervading mood is much quieter, however, and there is no flurry of activity. This may be partly due to the handwritten sign taped outside the locked door, cheerfully studded with stars and emoticon faces.

**☆ (** **ﾉ** **≧** **∀** **≦)** **ﾉDoing the groom’s hair!!!** **╰(** **✧** **∇** **✧** **╰)** **☆**

**(Don’t bug us rn or we’ll ~~kill~~ CRUSH you lol ** **～(^з^)-** **♡)**

The word “CRUSH” hovers above the other words, in larger, sloppier letters. Beneath these lines, in a third, more precise hand, reads in both Japanese and English, _“For any ceremony-related issues or concerns, please call the following number,”_ along with a cell phone contact.

Inside the room, almost all of its seven occupants are sitting. Poised, calm. Perhaps the true reason for this is the young man seated in front of a mirror, whose habitual quiet seems to have spread to the rest of them.

The young man in question is bookended by two astonishingly attractive people who, on any other day, would make him even more difficult to notice than he already is. But everyone in the room—except, perhaps, for the man himself—seems to sense that this won’t be the case today.

For Kuroko’s part, his thoughts keep drifting. Not out of worry or concern. The opposite, as a matter of fact.

Right now he’s remembering his recent wedding rehearsal, and how a few clouds drifted overhead near the end. It rained for a few minutes in the partial sun, much to his wedding party’s dismay—until the crystalline shower stopped, and a brilliant rainbow shone over the pavilion. (At which point the man who was his very first basketball captain said something along the lines of, “Oh for fuck’s sake, this is already the gayest wedding in history. That shit is just _unnecessary_.”)

Rainbows are shockingly common, Kuroko has learned, on this particular island. But even so, he can’t help thinking it’s a good omen. Not that he needed one, to be sure of what he’ll be doing in less than an hour.

Momoi’s question finally registers in his mind. He looks up at her. She is sitting beside him at the vanity, while Kise is hovering above him and styling his hair.

"Not nervous at all,” Kuroko tells her, very honestly. He chuckles. "You haven't really given me a chance to be. You've all done so much to help."

He gives her a grateful look, and extends it to everyone else in the room. They’re all wearing gleaming suits of white, just like he is. Except for Momoi, whose frothy blue dress is the same pale color that accents each of their tuxedos. It’s a familiar color combination, that happens to suit all of them very well.

"We were happy to do it,” Momoi says, with petal-soft eyes. A few of the others murmur their agreement.

"Really though, Kurokocchi, you are way too calm right now!” Kise says, as he parts Kuroko’s hair with a comb. “You're supposed to be turning into Bridezilla. Yelling at all your bridesmaids and throwing chairs or something."

He giggles, as he uses his fingers to brush more pomade into Kuroko’s hair. (Kuroko has fully resigned himself to the bride jokes. Ever since he agreed to a white suit.)

"Sounds more like Kaga-chin, to be honest,” Murasakibara drones behind them. He is sitting on the larger of two couches in the room. A boxed cake is perched in his lap, and he takes huge bites of it with an oversized fork.

"Pfft." Aomine snorts, draped across the smaller couch. Long, muscular legs clad in white trousers dangle over one end. He looks for all the world like he’s fallen asleep. "Got that right. Too bad we’re missing out on the circus."

"I'm not entirely certain we're missing it,” Midorima says beside Murasakibara. Shooting him his customary glare. “Why on earth are you eating in here? Tell me that cake wasn't meant for the reception."

"Aka-chin got it for me,” Murasakibara says in between mouthfuls. "Said he knew I'd be hungry."

Midorima inspects the cake more closely. White all over, with minimal frosting. It just so happens to be an ideal dessert for minimizing theoretical stains on white tuxedo jackets.

He looks over at Akashi, who is seated on his other side, with a glance that says wordlessly, _“You are incredible and you terrify me,”_ but what he says out loud is, "How did you manage to plan that?"

"It’s about anticipating every outcome, my friend,” Akashi says in a philosophical tone, as he hands Murasakibara another napkin. “I also happened to witness his interaction with the test cake a few weeks ago. It was mildly alarming.”

He winces at the memory. Murasakibara continues to eat, unperturbed.

“All of you still haven’t told me what’s so special about this wedding cake,” Kuroko says, watching his longtime friends in the mirror. A few of them trade covert looks. A lesser observer than Kuroko might mistake them for neutral.

He is fairly certain, however, that they are closer to mischievous.

“It’s nothing,” Kise sings, running his hands through Kuroko’s hair again, and blasting it occasionally with a blow dryer. “Why would you think it’s anything special? You and Kagamicchi told us what you wanted, and we did it.”

Kuroko raises his eyebrows. Peers knowingly between Kise’s fluttering fingers.

“I think that because you keep saying that,” he says, and on an ordinary day his voice would be dry, or at least slightly flat. But there is too much warmth in it right now, and fond is the best he can manage.

A phone starts to buzz. In the quiet room, the vibration almost sounds loud enough to be a ringtone. Akashi gives Kuroko an apologetic glance, as he takes out his phone and walks over to a corner. His soft voice is barely audible, asking muffled questions, pausing to listen.

"There's no need to apologize,” he murmurs. “I asked you to let me know if there were any real concerns. I’ll take care of it."

Akashi slips the phone back into his pocket. Gives all of them a perfectly calm, near saintly smile.

"Please excuse me. I'll only be a moment.” He unlocks the door, and leaves the room. And everyone else knows, because they know Akashi Seijuurou, that his expression has most likely changed on the way out from something friendly to a no-nonsense, take-care-of-business, fix-this-right-now-and-it-had-better-be- _flawless_ frown.

"I think Akashicchi might be the closest thing to Bridezilla around here, actually,” Kise says to Kuroko and Momoi, only half under his breath. “Like, a proxy one."

Kuroko gazes up at his self-appointed hairdresser. Laughs a bit. "I don't know. You've been pretty close yourself a few times."

"What! Nuh-uh." Kise gasps, like he can’t imagine why Kuroko would say such a thing. "Okay, so I got a _teensy_ bit unhinged about the flowers. And the place settings. But they were throwing off my whole color scheme.” Everyone is giving him a look, and Kise quickly adds, “Yours. You know what I mean!"

"Of course. You're not making this about yourself at all,” Midorima says, with the eye roll that has been his most frequent contribution to the proceedings.

"Can it, Midorimacchi.” Kise waves a blow dryer at him in a huff. “This is going to be the best wedding ever. Just you wait."

He switches on the dryer, and makes several expert passes with it. After a few minutes, he turns off the heat, and mists Kuroko’s hair with a cloud of hairspray. He studies each lock with a critical eye. Checking every possible angle.

The door opens with a muted creak.

"I’ve returned with reinforcements,” Akashi says, as Nijimura enters behind him. The former Teikou captain is wearing a white tuxedo just like the rest of them. He regards the room’s occupants with his trademark gruffness.

"You kids almost done in here? How long does it take to do a man's hair?"

"Kurokocchi has super feathery hair, okay! It needs extra work to stay in place,” Kise declares. He touches his handwork experimentally. "And I still only give this an hour, tops. But it'll have to do."

He sighs, looking very pleased nevertheless.

Momoi’s rosy smile glows with approval. "It looks wonderful, Ki-chan."

"I know right?” Kise chirps, preening. “I'm a genius."

The two of them look Kuroko over, one last time, and make a few final adjustments. Then they start inspecting everyone else. Momoi drags Aomine off the couch and forces him into his jacket. Akashi and Midorima check Murasakibara for crumbs, while Kise flits from one colorful head to the next. Smoothing flyaways and adding the occasional dab of last-minute gel. Cheerfully insisting that “just this once, you’re all going to look as incredible as me.”

Then they’re all waiting, quiet. Hovering near Kuroko, in a loose but perceptible circle. In the past few years, the Generation of Miracles have rarely been together in the same room. Today, however, their former phantom sixth man stands at the center of all their far-flung orbits.

And strangely, he is also drawing all their gazes. As if Kuroko’s usual invisibility has reversed, and he’s somehow borrowed light from each of them. Increasing it, even, with some subtle, unexplained power… Until the ghostly young man in white, with hair the same blue hue as his tailored vest, looks quite literally _radiant_.

“You were just trying to give Bakagami a heart attack, huh,” Aomine mutters in a very low voice to Kise, who only grins.

Kuroko, for his part, doesn’t notice anything strange in the mirror, when he gives it an absent glance. Only that his hair is a bit shinier than usual, and he looks happy. Which, given the circumstances, isn’t strange at all.

“You should’ve given him a lucky item, Mido-chin,” Murasakibara says. He is, by some miracle, not eating. “Don’t Western brides get stuff like that or whatever.”

Midorima grimaces, like he doesn’t know where to begin with that. To point out yet again that Kuroko is a _groom_ , or ask in what universe a Western bride would consult Oha-Asa, or explain for the millionth time that he doesn’t use lucky items anymore. Instead he looses a sigh, and eyes Kuroko.

“I don’t think Kuroko needs any help with fate,” he says, in his solemn way. “Not today.”

“It does seem rather inevitable at this point, doesn’t it?” Akashi says, gently.

The others nod. Aomine shoots Kuroko a sharp look. “So, Tetsu, you’re really doing this? Can’t take that shit back, you know.”

(And everyone else knows that Aomine would only ask this, if he already knew what the answer would be. While Nijimura just mumbles under his breath, “Well, he _could_. But then hell would have to turn into the goddamn Arctic.”)

Kuroko smiles, in a way that makes certain people in the room start to wonder if their friend has pulled an especially miraculous vanishing act, and replaced himself with an actual angel.

“I know,” he says. A hint of awe warms his serene voice. “I’m really doing this.”

They all echo his smile, as though they can’t help it anymore. Momoi comes up alongside him, and lightly rubs his arm.

“You’ve never even had second thoughts, have you?” she says, with amazement in her voice.

“About being with Kagami-kun?” Kuroko says. Even though he still uses his fiancé’s surname with an honorific in public, the name sounds uncommonly tender. Almost too intimate—even though that shouldn’t be possible. Like old-fashioned couples who still call one another “-san.”

He considers the question. A smile lingers on his lips, and in his luminous blue eyes.

“I did try to fight it once, in a way,” he says slowly. “I was so afraid that year. Of asking to live with him in California, and leaving all of you. And I fought it a little when I met him, too… Maybe not as much as I should have.”

He laughs.

“But I don’t think I ever really doubted it,” he says. “Even then. I haven’t been afraid of my feelings since I left Japan. I certainly have no reason to start now.

“I just love him. With all my heart.”

They all stare at him. Perfectly silent.

“You are ridiculous,” Aomine says, finally, because none of the rest of them know what to say.

“Seriously, Kurokocchi. You’re something else.” Kise gives a helpless shake of his blond head. “I mean, look at us over here!”

He waves at everyone else in turn.

“Murasakibaracchi is seven feet tall,” he says with emphasis. “Midorimacchi cuts people open for a living. Aominecchi’s in the NBA, he’s got all that ink on his arm now, he looks like he could’ve done time or something—” Aomine gives Kise a dark glare. “—See? Scary. Momoicchi is basically a human supercomputer, Nijimuracchi is, well, him. I can’t go anywhere without being mobbed by cameras, and Akashicchi is _literally gonna take over Japan someday_. But somehow, you’re still the most terrifying one of all of us!”

Now everyone is staring at Kise. Laughing a little, despite themselves. Because on the one hand, it’s all true in a way. The last part especially. More than any of them really knows how to admit.

But on the other hand…

“There is so much wrong with what you just said,” Midorima mumbles, palming his brow. Aomine whacks Kise in the shoulder, while Nijimura stalks toward him. Silver eyes flashing.

“I’m me, huh. Listen here, you overgrown little _punk_ —” But instead of saying anything, he just grabs Kise and yanks him into a headlock. And starts mussing his slicked-back, perfectly coiffed hair.

Kise outright wails. “Nooooo, not the hair! Please! Oh god. I’m sorry! Really!”

His whimpers fill the room. Everyone else leaves Kise to his fate. Akashi checks his watch, and mentions they’ll be getting the signal to leave any minute now.

Kuroko takes one last look in the mirror on the opposite wall. He feels as though he can’t quite see himself, somehow. Like he’s floating, not fully aware of his senses.

He can’t stop thinking about Kagami. Wondering how he is. If he’s calm or not, what he’s thinking about… Kuroko hasn’t seen him for almost a day. Not so uncommon lately, given his schedule on the road during NBA seasons. But very odd when they’re in the same place, not separated by a plane’s ride worth of distance.

Somehow, Kuroko almost feels as though he can sense him close by. The warmth, the presence, of that light he’s become so bound to.

He glances down at his hand. It feels empty, without his ring. He’s strangely eager to have it back in place. Though he knows it will be on the other hand this time.

“Do I honestly look all right?” he says to Aomine, who is standing beside him. “I know you’ll tell me if I don’t.”

Aomine stares down at him. He raises a hand, like he’s tempted to ruffle Kuroko’s hair. Just like he used to—like so many of them used to—years ago. But Kise shoots him a deathly glare on his way to the mirror, drawing a comb across his throat as if to say, _“I will cut you,”_ and Aomine stops.

“Yeah,” he says, roughly as usual. Not quite looking at Kuroko. “Kise’s deranged, but trust me. Don’t sweat it.”

“All right,” Kuroko says, more peaceful than ever. “I won’t.”

He gives Aomine a lingering look. Suddenly studying the faint shadows under his longtime friend’s eyes, and each subtle trace of what appears to be fatigue. Kuroko no longer knows everything that his friends are going through on a daily basis. But he’s seen enough in the past few days to know that some things must not be easy for them right now.

And yet here they all are, on an island in the middle of the Pacific Ocean. Putting on their happiest faces, for him. To support him.

To be part of his _wedding_.

“Thank you for coming here,” he says, sincerely. “I know it was a lot to ask.”

Aomine blinks, like this is the last thing in the world he expected to hear. Kuroko turns to the rest of them, and they pause to listen. (As though today, they’re all perfectly tuned to the hard-to-hear sound of Kuroko’s voice… A rainbow, harkening to the transparent air of the sky.)

“All of you,” he says, in his warmest tone. “Thank you, for everything. After all we’ve been through, it means so much to me, that you’re here with me for this.”

He gazes at each of them, craning his neck to look at the tallest ones, with eyes that are a little too bright. Their replies blend together, sympathetic murmurs of “Yeah, sure,” and “Of course,” and “We’re very happy to be here.” There is a distinct sniffling sound. Momoi is dabbing at her eyes with a handkerchief.

“All right, that’s enough,” Nijimura says suddenly. “You can get back to being a hopeless sap in an hour, Kuroko. Right now these brats need to keep their shit together. We’ve got an aisle to walk down.”

He says it sternly. Everyone seems to sober up at this reminder. Then, as if on cue, the door swings open wide.

A suntanned, fresh-faced young man strides into the room. He also wears a white tuxedo, and like Kuroko he wears a vest, but in a pale shade of green. Unlike the other occupants of the room, his appearance leans closer to the ordinary side. He has an uncommonly cheerful smile, though, and friendly features.

Kuroko brightens even further upon seeing him, if possible.

“Hey, bestest man,” Kise greets Ogiwara. Bubbly again, now that he’s successfully repaired his hair. “How’s it going out there?”

“Everything’s great,” Ogiwara says in his sunny voice. “There’s a huge crowd. You guys won’t believe it. Are you all ready to go?”

Everyone nods, and starts lining up in the order they rehearsed. Ogiwara hurries to Kuroko’s side. He grins as he looks him over.

“You look happy,” he says. “Your parents are waiting for you. I just checked to make sure. I kept losing track of them.”

He laughs, and Kuroko does the same.

A moment of busyness follows, one that Kuroko doesn’t fully register. Then they all walk together out the door, into the tropical sunlight and breeze-kissed air. The sky looks bluer and bluer, the longer Kuroko gazes up at it.

They pause at the corner of the hotel. The altar isn’t visible from here, and neither are the wedding guests. But Kuroko can hear distant voices around the corner, many of them familiar, coupled with the more distant sound of the ocean.

They stop and wait. Then all eight of his oldest, longest friends are looking at him. Smiling.

In that instant, Kuroko glimpses the past. The days when the gleaming white tuxedos with blue accents were basketball uniforms. And they were all ten years younger and none of them, not a single one of them, would have ever guessed that they’d be doing what they’re about to do.

And he can see that rainbow again. That good omen. Now recreated in brilliantly colored heads of hair, gathered all together.

“Well, phantom sixth man,” Aomine says, and Kuroko swears he somehow knew Aomine would say a thing like this. Even though it doesn’t seem like him, in a way. “Time to hand you off to your light.”

The last two words are a joyful ache in Kuroko’s chest. That’s why, he thinks. Why all of this means so much, even though he has been in a relationship with Kagami for years. Because in a matter of moments, those words will be truer than ever before.

And there aren’t any bells, but a new word is ringing in Kuroko’s ears instead. Just as “fiancé” once did, with strange and shimmering newness.

_“Husband.”_

“Yes,” he says, and they all smile wider.

Ogiwara pats him on the back. Then he takes Kuroko by the hand.

“Come on.” He winks. “Let’s hide you.”

The Generation of Miracles all disappear around the corner. Meanwhile, Ogiwara pulls Kuroko quickly along. They dart through a gap in the walkway, then duck behind a hedge, hushing their laughter.

Time has reversed again, going back even farther, and two boys are playing hide and seek. Just like they used to on sunny days in a park, in between rounds of basketball. (Kuroko has long suspected it was because he could never win at the basketball.)

“Good luck,” Ogiwara whispers beside his ear. “Not that you ever really need it.”

Then he vanishes, and Kuroko’s parents are there, waiting for him. In a little nook tucked beside the wedding pavilion. Kuroko can’t see inside the airy structure from here, but the voices are closer than ever. And his mother squeezes his hand and says with tears in her eyes, “You look so handsome,” and his father grips his shoulder and says in his stoic way, “We’re very proud of you.”

And he knows they’re both happy for him but also a little afraid, that they still worry about his future sometimes. Because the world isn’t fair, and not everyone believes that a man marrying another man is an acceptable thing to do. But those concerns have never been further from Kuroko’s mind. Because today, everything is possible and magical—and _miraculous_.

Today Kuroko is getting married. To his soul mate. The other person on the end of his red string. The fated light to his shadow.

He can’t possibly imagine right now, where this day will soon lead. What destiny has in store, and the whirlwind that will follow after this, for him and his husband and all of his friends. Just as he never imagined fate would lead him here in the first place.

But in this perfect moment, as the music starts to play, Kuroko has never been less worried, or less afraid, in all his life.

So he waits, calmly and certainly, beside the path. The one that will lead him very shortly to his destiny. The one he embraced from the very beginning. Almost from the moment they met.

To Kagami Taiga. His light.


End file.
